


Don't It Make You Cry (Like A Little Bitch)

by ya_idjits



Series: Hiatus Filler [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean - Freeform, Demon!Dean, Drabbles, Overuse of italics, Season 9, Spoilers, almost destiel?, bby boy, bunker!fic, cas - Freeform, cas comes home from heaven, curse you kripke, i cried a lot, movin' quick kinda fic, not really - Freeform, sammmmmyyyyy, sammy - Freeform, sorry about that, that finale was predictable but it still hurt my soul, this is short, whups, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ya_idjits/pseuds/ya_idjits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas comes home from Heaven and finds something a little...unexpected. Season 9 spoilers, because my soul is hurting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't It Make You Cry (Like A Little Bitch)

**Author's Note:**

> It was pretty much inspired by this text post: http://thekingslover.tumblr.com/post/86365816387/meh-like-where-was-cas-for-that-whole-exchange
> 
> Anyway. In my mind, when Sam finds out about what happened, he doesn't flip his shit at all. He sort of calmly accepts it. This is set after he's found out and after Cas has come down from Heaven. He's in the middle of informing Cas that, why _yes_ , the man you love is, in fact, a demon. They're in the Bunker, around the big map table thingie.

“Sam, I –“

Sam cuts the angel off with a kindly shake of his head. “It’s okay, Cas, you didn’t know.”

Cas slumps in his chair, burying his face in his hands and letting out a long, pained sigh. “I just thought that he –“

“Cas.” Sam’s voice is gentle. “It’s _okay_.”

Cas looks up at the hunter. “No, it’s not!" Sam knows Cas well enough to know that the anger tightening his muscles and narrowing his eyes is a result of terror. "If I’d just followed Metatron, I could have stopped it! I could have stopped it all, Dean wouldn’t have to be a – a –“

He just can't quite seem to force the word out, even though Cas is normally blatantly, brutally filter-less.

“Demon?” A gruff voice asks from the doorway. Dean's voice has gotten more and more gravelly with every new otherwordly being he kills, as if the potential dangers of hunting need to make themselves really obvious. Sam and Cas whip around, staring at the figure leaning against the sturdy wooden doorframe. He’s still wearing his bloody clothes, but he must have left the First Blade back in his room, because he’s not holding it any more.

“Dean,” Cas breathes. And then Dean’s there, next to him, and he can barely breathe because Dean’s eyes are still green, and his hand, when he claps Cas on the shoulder, is still warm, and he still smells like good whiskey and leather and motor oil. Like he always has. He’s not different. He’s _Dean._

“Dean,” Cas chokes out again.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Dean says. There’s a pause as he looks Cas up and down, taking in how tight the angel's shoulders are bunched. They stare at each other for what feels like minutes, and even though it's only been a couple of days since Cas had helped hold Dean back from Gadreel, he feels anticipation buzzing his veins, making them hum in the way the do only when Cas is around. Cas' eyes are so easy to drown in, and _damn_ , Dean wants to drown. After hearing Sam's chair screech a little bit as he adjusts himself uncomfortably, Dean snaps his gaze away. “Where’s Gadreel? Thought he was sneaking you guys into Heaven, so that you could go after… oh, yeah, uh, _Metatron._ " Dean tries to cover up the intimacy of the previous moments, aggressively wrenching the chair next to Cas' out and dropping into it. "How’d your little plan work out, huh? What happened when you figured out Metadouche was on earth? C’mon, Cas, you didn’t really think –“

“Dean,” Sam cuts in from across the table. “Gadreel’s dead.”

Dean huffs, his face contorting in anger. “Damn it!” Sam gives him a look, and he sighs. “Really?”

Cas nods. “He, uh,” he murmurs, swallowing with some difficulty. “He was a good angel.”

Dean leans in, resting his elbow on the edge of the table. Cas isn’t quite sure, because he’s having a hard time focusing with Dean right there, but he thinks that for the briefest moment the hunter’s eyes flicker back to black. Sam waits for a moment, and then sighs and runs a hand through his hair, walking over from the corner of the room to sit at the table with them. 

Dean glances at his brother before returning his attention the angel in front of him. The dumb, god damn angel who rescued him from hell and gave him hell and has these stupid blue eyes that Dean dreams about sometimes. “Where were you?”

“What?” Cas’ voice cracks; he sounds like he’s being strangled.

“Where. Were. _You?_ ” Dean growls. “What happened after Gadreel kicked the can? What did you do?”

“Dean –“ Sam starts.

“No, Sammy. I wanna know what happened.” He leans closer to Cas. “Talk to me.”

“I was searching Heaven,” Cas whispers. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, hurt etched into his face. “Metatron told me you were dead, so I was searching Heaven.”

There’s a long silence, and then Dean laughs. Cas never thought he would dislike it when Dean laughed, but this is a low, chilling chuckle that’s slowly growing more hysterical.

“Heaven? You honestly thought I would get into _Heaven?_ After all the shit I’ve –“

“Dean,” Sam whimpers. “Dean, don’t do this.”

A whisper shouldn't cut off Dean's yelling, but the Winchester brothers are so in tune with each other that, given a more opportune situation, Cas would openly marvel at their connection. God knows he has before.

“Do what, Sam? I’m a demon and you think I could have gotten through the pearly fuckin’ gates?”

Cas straightens up. “I _know_ you would have,” he snarls. “You are a good man, Dean Winchester! How much proof do you need?” He leans forward suddenly, his face inches away from Dean’s. Dean clenches his jaw. _This_ is why people followed Cas, _this_ is how Cas reminds everyone that he’s a warrior of God. The look in his eyes as he growls at Dean is pure and powerful and _terrifying_. “How much, Dean? Why can’t you accept that you’re a good man – a great man? You have saved countless people, creatures, angels. You’ve saved Sam, you’ve saved me – why can’t you save yourself?”

Dean falters. He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs, getting up to leave the room. When he reaches the doorway, he glances back, and there’s no mistaking it, this time. His eyes are gleaming black, but he doesn’t look sadistic or cocky, like the demons they encounter normally do. Hell, like _he_ normally does. He just looks…kind of tired.

“’M not a man,” he mumbles. “Not anymore.”


End file.
